


Pancakes and Murder

by Amethyst Shard (AmethystShard)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Case Fic, First Kiss, Humor, M/M, Mystery, Sarcasm, Slash, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-27
Updated: 2012-06-27
Packaged: 2017-11-08 16:40:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/445264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmethystShard/pseuds/Amethyst%20Shard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles' life has been a roller-coaster filled with awesome highs and terrifying drops ever since his best friend Scott got bit by a werewolf. The ride hits a bump when a dead body turns up at the Hale house (again) and Derek's only alibi is Stiles. Which would be fine, except that Stiles' dad is the sheriff and has no idea his son has been hanging out with the former fugitive. <i>Awkward.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place shortly after season one. It was written before season 2 aired, so it does not follow S2 canon.

Stiles sat on the front porch of the Hale house. He chewed on the cap of his highlighter, while reading the textbook on his lap. Nearby Derek was attempting to teach Jackson and Scott how to control their inner wolves. Stiles glanced up in time to see Derek slap Jackson on the backside of his head. Stiles laughed, not because Jackson getting slapped was funny (okay, so it was a little funny), but because he was happy that it wasn't him getting on Derek's bad side for once. When Scott got the same treatment for getting distracted, Stiles covered his smirk with his hand. Scott was his best friend after all.

"Enough," growled Derek. He looked at the two betas with a mixture of anger and disappointment. "You two are actually getting worse at this."

Scott whined, "Come on, Derek. It's late, we had school all day, lacrosse practice, and-."

"And it's a Friday night," Jackson chimed in, but quieted when both Derek and Scott glared at him.

Scott continued, "And after having us chase you around the woods for an hour, you want us to be able to concentrate on accessing our wolf powers without completely shifting... It's too much. We're tired."

"Fine," said Derek, "If going home, texting your friends, playing video games and watching TV until you fall asleep is more important than this, than go."

Scott's head fell back in relief. "Thank god." 

Jackson was already shouldering his bag. “You want to get a pizza?"

Scott clutched his stomach as if just realizing how hungry he was. "Yeah, sounds good. Stiles?"

Stiles was busy putting his textbook back into his bag and glanced up distractedly. "Pizza? Yeah- no, actually," he shook his head, "I promised my dad I'd be home before he got off work, plus it’s my night to cook." Stiles shrugged. "But you go ahead-"

Before Stiles even finished speaking, Scott said, "Okay," and was slipping into the passenger side door of Jackson's Porsche. Jackson smirked and sent Stiles a quick wave that clearly said 'later loser' before speeding off, leaving a spray of dust and leaves in his wake.

Stiles waved his arms as they left. "No really, go, have fun, I insist. Don't worry about me. You two get pizza and bond over how awesome it is to have superpowers, while I go home, sit alone watching the frozen dinner I'll heat up in the microwave get cold again, waiting for my dad to come home, because he forgot to tell me he'd be late again and I'll get to worry something's happened to him," Stiles muttered as he walked over to his jeep. He was pulling his keys out when a hand clamped down on his shoulder. Stiles yelped and the keys jumped from his hand to the ground. He turned to find Derek staring at him. Derek, right, he'd kind of forgotten he was still there. "Did you want something or do you just enjoy scaring the crap out of me." The corner of Derek's lips twitched up slightly, and yeah of course Derek enjoyed scaring him. Creep. 

Stiles was still looking at Derek's lips when he finally spoke. "A ride."

"Huh?"

Derek rolled his eyes. "I want a ride."

Stiles bent down quickly to pick up his keys. "Yeah, I kind of have to get home." He unlocked the jeep and was going to get in when Derek's arm blocked him.

"Stiles." Derek's eyes flashed red. "Thanks to you, my car is in the shop, so if I want a ride, you will give me a ride."

"That was not my fault. Scott's the one that dented your hood."

"Because you drove it into him."

Stiles' mouth dropped. "That's not... okay, I did, but he asked me too. He wanted to practice rolling over the hood."

"And you couldn't use your own car?"

Stiles waved his hand over the jeep. "Obviously. A Camaro is way better for hood sliding than a jeep. Besides I didn't want it getting dented."

Derek's gaze narrowed. Stiles was pretty sure he heard a growl too.

Stiles sighed. "Fine. Get in."

As Derek slipped into the passenger seat next to him, Stiles asked, "Where to?"

"I need to look something up."

“Did you try a dictionary?” Stiles didn’t have to look at Derek to know he was glaring. He started the car up and pulled away from the old burned down house. "I hate to tell you, but the library would be closed by now."

"You have a computer," said Derek.

"I do." There was a long silence as Stiles wondered if there was a 24 hour internet cafe somewhere he could drop the alpha off at, before he finally sighed and gave in. "Alright, but if my dad gets home before you leave, you're going out the window. He can't see you. I'm already on thin ice."

Derek nodded. "He'll never know I was there."

****

** * * * **

****

Stiles was groggy when he woke up the next morning. His face was smushed comfortably against his pillow, there was a blanket over him, and his shoes had been removed, none of which he could remember doing. The last thing he could remember before waking he had been studying for his final exams. He tossed the blanket back and sleepily slid his legs over the side of his bed, dropping his socked feet down to the floor. He took one step and promptly tripped over something large and heavy.

The lump moved under Stiles and growled. "Ack!" Startled, Stiles flailed as he scrambled off. Next to him, Derek was lying on the floor. He did not look happy to be woken so abruptly. Not that Derek was much of a morning person to begin with. Stiles met his narrowed gaze with wide eyes. Why was Derek Hale in his room, sleeping on his floor with Stiles' pillow and Stiles' blanket? Was he on the run again and hiding out? Because Stiles wasn't sure he could handle sharing a room with the werewolf again, especially not during midterms when he really needed to focus. The guy put him on edge. For various reasons. Like that one time when Stiles had woken up in the middle of the night to find Derek standing over his bed, just staring at him. Who does that? Aside from scary serial killing stalkers or supernaturally good looking fictional vampires, the answer was no one. _Except, apparently, Derek freakin’ Hale._ And he tended to sleep in nothing but boxers. Daytime didn’t give Stiles any breaks either as Derek would wander around the bedroom shirtless, doing pushups and other things that made his perfectly sculpted body glisten with sweat. 

Even now, just after waking up, Derek was rumpled, his hair mussed, but in that irritatingly perfect ‘I just rolled out of bed’ male-model way. "What the hell," he groused drowsily. Stiles was pretty certain that should have been his line.

"Hey you're the one who set up camp next to my bed. You'd think you would have learned from the last time. Why are here anyway?"

"It got late and you fell asleep; on your notebook. You had spiral marks on your face."

That was... embarrassing and totally did not answer Stiles’ question. He opened his mouth to say so, but stopped when he heard footsteps in the hallway outside his bedroom.

"Stiles, you okay? I heard a loud thump." Stiles' dad spoke from the other side of the door. The door knob began to turn.

Panicked, Stiles grabbed his bed spread and threw it over Derek's head. "Don't move." He'd probably pay for that later. Stiles jumped to his feet, just as the door opened and his dad appeared. Stiles lunged forward, grabbing the door with one hand, blocking his dad from entering. "Hey, Dad. Morning."

"Did you fall out of bed?" He craned his head to see around Stiles, eyeing the pile of blankets on the floor next to his bed. Thankfully they did not move.

Stiles grinned, shifting his stance to block his dad's view further. "Yeah, I got all tangled up. Clumsy." He shrugged. "I'm fine."

His dad looked at him with a mixture of concern and disbelief. "Alright. I just wanted to let you know, I got an emergency call, so I'm leaving early."

Stiles perked up. "Yeah? Something happen?"

Stiles' dad narrowed his eyes. "Possibly. I'll know more after I get there."

If he pushed, Stiles could usually get his dad to let something slip, but at that moment he was more concerned that his dad _not_ notice the former fugitive hiding under his blanket. "Well, good luck."

"Thanks," he started to turn away from the door, but stopped. He lifted a finger. "Don't just goof off all weekend, get some studying in too."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Got it. All work, no fun."

The sheriff shook his head and left. Stiles breathed out a sigh of relief as he closed the door. "It's safe now", he told the pile of blankets.

The expression on Derek's face as he sat up made Stiles rethink his statement. Because as Derek stood up and stalked towards him, safe was not the prominent feeling Stiles felt. 

"Don't. Ever. Do. That. Again."

Stiles held up his arms in surrender. "Hey, it's better than letting the sheriff find you in his son's bedroom... in boxer-briefs no less.” Stiles looked pointedly down.

"It was hot."

"Uh-huh. Well after you get your pants back on, I'll give you a ride back to your place." Derek looked ready to argue, but Stiles waved him off. "I'm supposed to meet Scott at the Pancake Shack for breakfast and algebra. He needs a little help studying for midterms so we're going to have an all-day study jam." 

Derek made use of Stiles’ shower before they left; no running water at the Hale house after all. Seriously the guy needed a real place to live at already rather than crashing at Stiles' or renting a motel whenever he needed actual amenities or the weather got too cold or rough to stay under half a roof. Stiles really couldn't see the appeal of living in that place. Half of it was burned away, it was drafty, dark, and yeah Stiles would admit it, it was kind of spooky. Like a lot spooky. People died there. It was probably haunted. If were-wolves were real, than ghosts were not so implausible. He'd have to remember to ask Derek sometime. Anyway, the Hale House, no appeal, unless maybe you were the Addams family.

The drive to Derek's was mostly quiet. Well, Derek was quiet. Stiles wasn't good with awkward silences so he tried to fill it in with awkward (one-sided) conversation instead. He shut up abruptly though when he saw the flashing blue lights ahead.

"Stiles, stop the car." 

Stiles obeyed, pulling over to the side of the road. There were cop cars all over the Hale house. The side door opened and Stiles jerked his attention to Derek who was getting out of the jeep. "You're not actually going over there?"

Derek looked at Stiles like he was the crazy one. "I was recently a murder suspect and only just got my name cleared. So no, Stiles, I am not going over there." 

Stiles breathed a sigh of relief.

"You are."

Stiles pointed a finger towards himself. “Me?"

"Your dad is the sheriff. Find out what's going on. I'll meet up with you later." Derek shut the door and then he was gone. 

The sheriff was never very happy to see his son pop up at crime scenes, but when it came to curiosity, Stiles never could help himself. It was a good thing he wasn't a cat.

Stiles drove up and parked behind a patrol car. As he got out and approached the house, Stiles caught a glance of a body being loaded into an ambulance. The paramedics didn't seem to be in a hurry, which usually meant one thing.

"Stiles!"

Stiles flinched at the sound of his dad's voice. He turned his head and pointed at the ambulance. "Was that a body? Did somebody die?" The only people who ever went to the Hale house, besides him, were Derek (who he'd just left), Scott (who'd just texted him from the Pancake Shack) and Jackson. Stiles hadn't gotten much of a look at the body, but it could have been a guy.

His dad's hand clamped down on his shoulder and started leading him away from the house. "You shouldn't be here. Why are you here?"

"I- was just driving by and saw the lights. What's going on? Was it an animal attack?" If there was another crazy scary werewolf running around killing people, Stiles would definitely have to talk to his dad about relocating. Stiles liked being an unofficial member of the pack and he wouldn't want to leave his friends, but seriously one psychotic serial killing werewolf a year was enough.

"You know I can't talk about an ongoing investigation."

"But Dad-" Stiles protested as his Dad opened his jeep door for him.

"But nothing... I want you out of here."

Stiles reluctantly got into the jeep. "Can you at least tell me if it’s someone I know?"

His dad's eyes softened. He shook his head. "At the moment it looks like it was an accident, so go home and don't worry about it."

"Sure, home... actually no! I'm meeting Scott." For which Stiles was going to be very late. He could already feel his phone buzzing with unread messages. "Later, Dad."

"Later, Stiles," his dad replied in an exasperated voice.

Before he left, Stiles texted Scott, _‘Dead body at the Hale house. Again.’_

A short moment later he looked down to see the reply, _‘WHAT?!’_

****

** * * * **

****

"What the hell, Stiles?" Scott snapped as Stiles slid into the booth across from him. "You text me about a dead body and then leave me hanging?"

Stiles shrugged. "I didn't have anything more to text, because I don't know anything else." He zipped open his backpack and pulled out his math book. He looked over to Scott's side of the table. "Where are your books?"

"I forgot them."

Stiles thunked his head down on the table. He really wondered about his friend sometimes. "You're kidding right? Scott the whole point of meeting was-"

"Don't change the subject," Scott interrupted. "You seriously saw a dead body at the Hale house?"

"Yeah. Sort of. I didn't get a very good look, but someone definitely died. Dad thinks it might be an accident, whatever that means. Not an animal attack, thank god."

Scott did not look any less concerned. "Who was it?"

Stiles shook his head. "I don't know. My dad sent me packing before I could find out anything."

Scott rubbed a hand over his face. "I can't believe this is happening again."

"What's happening again?"

Stiles jerked his head up to find Jackson standing over their booth. Jackson nudged Scott, who scooted over, and sat down.

"Why is he here?" Stiles glared at Scott.

Jackson answered, "I was invited."

"This was supposed to be a study session." 

Jackson held up his book bag, "Which is why I brought my books."

"Great," Stiles continued to glare at Scott, "Then you can share with Scott."

"We can't study now," exclaimed Scott.

"Why not?" asked Jackson, looking between them in confusion.

"Someone was killed at Derek's." There was an edge of panic in Scott's voice.

"What? Really?" Jackson looked at Stiles for confirmation.

Stiles nodded. "Yeah, my dad got called in to work early this morning and then as I was driving Derek home we saw all the cop cars. I don't know any details though."

Jackson narrowed his eyes. Elbows on the table he leaned forward. "Why were you driving Derek home?" Scott's eyes widened for a second, as though he hadn't even thought to ask why Stiles was there to begin with (which he hadn't) and then turned to stare curiously at Stiles for an answer.

"Um," Stiles swallowed hard. Why did he feel self-conscious all of the sudden? "He- Derek- came over to my house last night after you guys left for pizza." Stiles totally hadn't forgotten about that. If Scott and Jackson were going to hang out together without Stiles, than Stiles certainly wasn't going to apologize for spending time with Derek without them. Not that ignoring each other, while Derek surfed the web and Stiles studied, really counted as spending time together.

"He went over to your place last night and you only drove him home _this morning?"_ Jackson raised an eyebrow, smirking. Scott just looked confused.

Stiles didn't know why he was blushing. It wasn't his fault if Jackson had a dirty mind. "You're missing the big picture here. Dead body. Hale house. We don't know what happened. What if there's another werewolf in town?"

"You said it looked like an accident," Scott said accusingly.

"That's what my dad _said,_ emphasis on 'looked'. But they were definitely treating it like a crime scene. There was yellow tape all over the place."

"Shit, what does Derek think?"

A waitress appeared with menus and Scott had the decency to look embarrassed by his language. After she left with their order, they continued in hushed voices.

"I don't know. He took off before I found out anything. He said he'd meet up with me later." Stiles looked at his phone, but there were no messages from Derek. Stiles didn't even know where they were supposed to meet up. They wouldn't be able to go back to the Hale house anytime soon.

They tried to study, but the topic of conversation always ended up back on the dead body. Who was it? How did they die? Was it someone Derek knew? Was it someone they knew? Was it a werewolf or a hunter? There were so many questions, none of which they had answers to. After a while they gave up on studying all together.

"I guess I'll go home in case Derek shows up there." Waiting around for Derek Hale to show up was not exactly how Stiles would choose to spend his weekend, but it wasn’t like he had anything else going on.

Scott nodded and walked Stiles to his jeep. "Call me as soon as you find out anything."

"Me too," said Jackson.

"Of course," Stiles smiled. That was so not going to happen. He'd let Scott fill him in.

He was halfway home when his cellphone rang. Stiles fumbled with it as he pulled over to answer. He recognized the number from the station. His dad usually used his personal cell to call Stiles though. "Hello?"

"Stiles!"

Stiles flinched at the growly voice. "Derek?"

" _Your dad_ has arrested me. Get over here to the police station now!" Derek hung up, before Stiles could ask any questions. He blinked at the phone.

He pulled away from the curb, making a U-turn for the police station.

****

** * * * **

****

"Dad!" Stiles shouted across the police station. A few heads turned, including his dad's, who had been signing something on a clip board held out by a uniformed officer. The sheriff took one look at his son then rolled his eyes up with an expression that said _why me?_ Stiles ran up to him, skidding across the linoleum as he tried to come to a halt. Sherriff Stilinski caught his arm. The officer holding the clipboard just raised his brows and walked away. "Why are you here? You know I'm working a case."

Stiles bent over trying to catch his breath. "Is it... true? You arrested Derek... Hale?"

"How do you even know that? We just-" Sherriff Stilinski raised his hand. "Actually? I don't want to know. Go home, Stiles."

Stiles ignored him, following his dad as he walked between the rows of desks. "So you _did_ arrest him."

"No, we brought him in for questioning."

"I thought you said it was an accident?"

"That's not conclusive yet." The sheriff stopped outside his office.

Stiles folded his arms. "If you're just questioning Derek, then why do you still have him in custody?"

Sherriff Stilinski folded his arms, mirroring Stiles' stance. "He's been... uncooperative."

Stiles dropped his arms. "How so?"

"He refuses to tell us his whereabouts between 11 and 2am which is the estimated time of death our medical examiner gave us."

_ Crap. _ Derek had been with Stiles that whole time. His dad was going to kill him when he found out. And probably ground him for next century. "Yeah, there's probably a reason for that," Stiles said nervously.

"Well I'd sure like to know what that reason is."

Taking a deep breath, Stiles said it quickly before he could change his mind, "Derekwaskindofwithmeallnight." Stiles flinched in anticipation of his dad's response.

Sherriff Stilinski blinked slowly. "Say that again."

Slower, Stiles said, "Dad. Derek was with me all night. So he couldn't have had anything to do with whatever happened."

His dad's expression darkened like a sudden thunder cloud appearing overhead. He grabbed Stiles' arm painfully and dragged him into his office, slamming the door shut. "What do you mean Derek Hale was with you last night?"

"He was with me." Stiles folded his arms again, looking off to the side. Barely a whisper he added, "In my room. All night."

"Derek Hale, legal adult and former murder suspect, was in _your_ bedroom, with you, all night?"

Stiles wandered over to his dad's desk. He picked up a paperweight. "Yeah." He tossed the paperweight between his hands. "So you see he couldn't have killed anyone. Well, he could have, but not last night." Stiles grinned lopsidedly.

Sherriff Stilinski grabbed the paperweight mid-air and set it back on his desk. He rubbed a hand over his forehead like he had a headache coming on. "Please tell me this is a really ill thought out joke."

"Sorry?" Stiles really hated disappointing his dad. He felt like he always was though.

Sherriff Stilinski leaned against his desk. "How long has this been going on?"

"Um, a while?" Stiles shrugged.

Sherriff Stilinski closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. "My teenage son has been having sex with a former fugitive and murder suspect." His eyes shot open, head turning sharply to stare at his son. "Really, Stiles?" He was nearly shouting. "Of all the people... Derek Hale?"

Stiles’ mind was still stuck on _sex_ with _Derek Hale._ "Wait! Dad, we're not- That's not-"

His dad held up a finger. "No, don't speak. Don't say a word."

"But-"

"Not a word, Stiles."

He took Stiles by the shoulders and led him out of the office and down to the interrogation rooms. He opened the door, pushing Stiles in first. Derek lifted his head from his arms folded on the table and, at the sight of the sheriff, sat up straighter in the metal chair. 

"Mr. Hale," his dad said, "Luckily for you my son has given you an alibi."

Derek looked relieved. He stood up. 

"You can go," the sheriff continued. Derek started towards the door. "But," he added and Derek paused. "We _will_ need to have a talk about this soon. Very soon." There was an edge of a threat in his voice. Stiles hung his head in embarrassment. Derek was going to kill Stiles, if his dad didn't do it first. "Come by my house after seven tonight. You know the way. Apparently."

Derek turned to look at Stiles, but Stiles refused to meet his gaze. He left without saying goodbye. Sherriff Stilinski leaned in close to Stiles' ear. "You are in so much trouble. You have no idea."

Sadly, Stiles did.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

His dad sent Stiles home with orders not to turn the TV on, go on the computer, or do anything that wasn't homework related. So of course Stiles drove straight to Scott's house.

"So?" asked Scott as Stiles plopped down into his desk chair, spinning it around. Stiles stopped after his third spin.

"So, I'm in a crapload of trouble."

Scott looked confused. 

"My dad arrested Derek. Again."

Scott's eyes widened. "What?"

Stiles slumped down in the chair, tilting his head back to look up at the ceiling. "Yeah... accidental death? Not so much it seems."

"Derek-"

"Was released." Stiles tilted his head back down a bit to see Scott. "After I gave him an alibi."

Scott actually had the nerve to look relieved. "Well, that's good, right? Derek's not a suspect anymore."

"Not in a murder case, no. Statutory rape on the other hand...."

"Huh?"

"I had to tell my dad Derek spent the night with me in my room, remember?

Scott frowned. "Yeah, but it's not like you guys had sex... right?"

"Oh my god, no." Stiles threw his arms up into the air. He couldn't believe this was happening. 

"So just tell your dad that," said Scott like the answer was so easy.

"I tried, but-" Stiles stood up and paced. "Think about it Scott. How do I explain _why_ I've been hanging out with Derek Hale?" Scott opened his mouth, but Stiles continued, "Without telling him about the whole werewolf thing." Scott's jaw snapped shut. "Now you see my problem."

"What are you going to do?"

Stiles sat down on the bed next to Scott. "I have no idea. Better question, what is my dad going to do to Derek? I mean he probably can't actually kill Derek, even with a gun, but what if Derek wolfs out and kills him, accidently? And then me, purposely?"

Scott put his arm around Stiles. "Derek's not going to kill you. I mean if he hasn't done it after all this time, he's probably not going to."

"Thanks. That's reassuring."

"Did you find out anything more about the victim," asked Scott, removing his arm from Stiles. "Jackson's been bugging me all day for updates."

Stiles fell back onto the bed. "Not much. One of Dad's deputies caught him as he was escorting me out of the station and gave him the file for the initial exam from the ME. I couldn't see the file, but I overheard them say that the cause of death was a broken neck. And there were deep scratch marks on his right arm from someone's fingernails."

"Fingernails or claws?"

Stiles shrugged. "I guess we'd have to see the body to know for sure." Stiles looked at Scott sharply. "You're going to ask me to drive you to the hospital so that you can sneak into the morgue again aren't you?"

Scott shook his head. "Not right now. We'll go tonight when there are less people around."

"Yeah, sure, why not. I'll pick you up around nine. I'm pretty sure that once Derek finds out that my dad thinks we're sleeping together, dinner will be over pretty quickly."

"Dude, that's so going to be even more awkward then my dinner with Allison's family."

Awkward was optimistic. Stiles was just hoping for something less than massacre.

****

** * * * **

****

Stiles was downstairs fiddling with the keys to the jeep, wondering how far he could get before his dad noticed he was missing and sent a BOLO out on him or, worse, an amber alert. Stiles cringed as he imagined his photo on the local news with the caption 'Missing teen flees from dinner with dad and alleged werewolf-boyfriend." Okay, so not very likely, but it was enough for him to put down the keys. 

He wasn't sure how he was going to be able to convince his dad they weren’t actually sleeping together without bringing up werewolves, which Stiles figured probably wouldn’t help the situation at all. He wondered if it was weird or cool that his dad didn't even flinch at the idea that Stiles might be gay... just that he might be gay for Derek Hale. Maybe his dad had suspected? Did Stiles give off a gay-vibe? Was that why girls never came on to him? But Danny never seemed very interested...

Stiles' thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell ringing. From the kitchen his dad shouted, "Stiles, get that."

Stiles approached the front door slowly. He wiped his hands on his jeans, suddenly realizing they were sweaty. He grabbed the doorknob which was cool to the touch, took a deep breath, and pulled the door open.

Despite knowing it would be Derek on the other side, it was still a shock to see him standing there. "Wow."

"What?"

Stiles shook his head. "I've never seen you use the front door before. It's strange." Surreal. Maybe Stiles was dreaming and this was just one long horrible nightmare from which he'd wake up soon. "Pinch me."

"No."

Stiles blinked at the answer. "You're not going to ask me why I want you to pinch me?"

"You're not dreaming Stiles. And unfortunately neither am I." Derek stood there for a moment glowering. Finally he raised a brow and asked, "Are you going to let me in?"

Stiles hesitated. "Before I do, there's something you should know." Stiles heard the kitchen door open and his dad approaching, so he leaned in and quickly whispered, "My dad thinks were sleeping together." Just as quickly he turned to greet his dad, "Dad, Derek's here."

"I see that. Invite him in."

Stiles stepped aside allowing Derek entrance. To his credit Derek retained some measure of composure after the bombshell Stiles dropped. He nodded at the sheriff, waiting for him to make the first move.

"I hope you haven't eaten, Derek, because I've made lasagna." Sherriff Stilinski didn't wait for a reply and returned to the kitchen. 

Derek leaned closer to Stiles and growled, "Stiles, what's going on? Why is your dad making me lasagna?"

Stiles shook his head. "I don't know. He's being a lot friendlier than I anticipated. I figured he would have threatened you with a shotgun by now." A terrifying thought occurred to Stiles. "Oh my god."

"What?"

"I suddenly have this sinking feeling that this is a get to know the guy dating my son dinner."

Derek gripped Stiles' arm. "We're not dating."

"I know, but if you have a better cover story for why the two of us would even be in the same room, that doesn't include werewolves and hunters, please tell."

Derek's grip loosened. He looked just as much at a loss as Stiles which made Stile's feel a little bit better.

Stiles’ dad politely asked them to sit. When they didn't move, he repeated in a firm voice, "Sit."

Stiles whispered as they walked over to the table, "Then again, he might have hidden razors in the lasagna, in which case, chew carefully."

Stiles took a seat next to his dad's right and Derek started to take the seat next to him, when his Dad stopped him. "Derek, over here. Please." He gestured to the seat on his left, opposite of Stiles. Derek moved away from Stiles to the other seat.

The sheriff dished them up. He poured himself a glass of wine and then offered it to Derek. It might have seemed polite to the unwary eye, but Stiles suspected he was really making a point about Derek being old enough to drink. Derek declined. "Would you prefer a beer?"

"I don't drink alcohol. Water's fine." Derek was keeping his cool, but Stiles could tell he was uncomfortable by the stiff way he was sitting.

His dad lowered the bottle, eyeing Derek for signs of lying. Stiles was pretty sure he wasn't, werewolves couldn't get drunk so there probably wasn't much point in it. "How's the lasagna? Stiles always complains I use to much too much garlic." He did.

"Its fine," said Derek staring down at his food, poking it with his fork. Liar, thought Stiles.

Sheriff Stilinski smiled. "Good." This was one of his dad's interrogation tactics. Get your suspect to feel comfortable, at ease, first and then try to knock them off guard. He took a sip from his glass watching as Derek took a bite. "So Derek, do you often sneak into teenage boys' rooms at night or just my son's?" And there it was. The sucker punch.

Derek managed somehow not to choke. He lowered his fork to his plate, chewing carefully. Before he could reply, Stiles spoke first, "Dad, Derek didn't sneak into my room. I let him in."

"We're not discussing your bad judgment at the moment... we _will_ later... but right now I want to hear Derek's side."

"No, you don't," argued Stiles, "You're trying to make him out like he's some creepy sex predator. Derek's not that much older than I am. And, yeah, I might have had my doubts about him at first too, but as it turned out, he's not a bad guy."

Sheriff Stilinski scoffed. "Upstanding citizens do not sneak around with sixteen year old boys."

"They do if said 16 year old's dad is an over protective Sheriff who just recently arrested him on suspicion of murder."

"Stiles you do actually hear the words coming out of your mouth, right? If you did then you would understand my concern. And even if we did forget that entire incident, I would still not approve of you sneaking a 23 year old man into your bedroom at night."

Stiles narrowed his eyes. "So if I had been sneaking a 23 year old _woman_ into my room then it would be alright?"

Stiles' dad cringed. "No, that's not the point I was trying to make. The point is that you're too young to know what you want at this stage in your life."

Stiles mouth gaped. "Wow. Way to underestimate your son, Dad. I think I have some idea about what I want out of life."

"And that includes _Derek Hale?"_

__

Across the table, Stiles caught Derek wince. Sitting up straight, Stiles looked at his dad directly in the eye. "Maybe it does." __

__

"Stiles-" Whatever his dad was going to say it was interrupted by Derek.

"Sherriff Stilinski, I don't know what Stiles told you, but I've never touched him inappropriately." Unless you counted slamming Stiles' head into a steering wheel as inappropriate touching. Derek turned to glare at Stiles as if this whole mess was his fault. "We're not having sex."

"You really expect me to believe-"

"No, but it’s the truth. I needed to borrow Stiles' computer, it got late and I slept on the floor. That's it."

Stiles was astonished to see that his dad actually looked like he might believe him. Or maybe he just wanted to. "Then why sneak around?"

"Stiles thought you wouldn't approve of us hanging out. You _had_ arrested me on suspicion of murder." Derek gave Stiles a pointed look. This was completely unfair. Scott was entirely (mostly) to blame for that, not Stiles.

Sherriff Stilinski waved his hand. "This is what I don't understand. Why would you two be hanging out together at all?"

"I didn't seek Stiles out; he just has a habit of showing up. And not going away." _Ouch._ And totally (mostly) a lie. Sure Stiles tagged along to pack meetings uninvited, but of the two of them, Derek was the way bigger creeper. He was always popping up at his school, in his car, or in his room. The guy was everywhere. __

__

Sheriff Stilinski shrugged. "Yeah, that sounds like my son."He was quiet for a moment, obviously debating something in his mind. "Okay, while I'm still not entirely certain about this... relationship, I will try to keep an open mind. But there will be no more secrets, no more lying. If you're going to see Derek, I want to know about it. Also," Sherriff Stilinski looked pointedly between them, "No more sleepovers. Got it?"

"Got it," said Stiles.

Derek nodded. After that his dad seemed to think they were done and excused them from the table. Derek wasted no time heading for the door. Stiles stood up quickly, pointing in Derek's direction. "I'm just going to-"

"Go." His dad waved him away.

Stiles shot off after Derek. He caught up with him in the driveway. "Derek, hey-" Stiles looked around. "Where's your car?"

Derek pushed his hands into his jacket's pockets. "It's still in the shop." 

Stiles eyebrows rose. "You walked here?"

Derek shrugged. "I like the exercise."

Stiles shook his head. "Let me give you a ride back."

Derek shook his head. "That's not necessary."

"Are you kidding? You just sat through a dinner where my dad practically accused you of cradle robbing and you didn't rip his throat out. The least I can do is give you ride."

"You're right. That is the least," there was an amused glint in his eyes that completely threw Stiles, but the werewolf was walking over to Stiles' jeep, so he figured that was a yes.

"It's funny isn't it," Stiles said as they got into the jeep.

"What is?" Derek pulled on his seat belt.

"My dad, thinking..." Stiles waved a hand between them, "That the two of us..."

"How so?"

"Well, for one thing, you're so out of my league." Stiles started the car and shifted into reverse. "A guy like you would never go for someone like me."

"You're wrong." Stiles' gaze shot from the rearview mirror to Derek, who was watching him intently. "Stiles-"

The car jerked suddenly and there was loud crash behind them. Stiles stomped on the break, turning his body around to see what he hit. "Crap." It was the trashcan. From what he could see, they were probably going to have to call the city for a new one. Again. 

"Do you need to get out," asked Derek.

"Uh," Stiles saw the front door of his house open. His Dad stepped out, hands on his hips. "Nope. We're good." Stiles quickly pulled away, his bumper dragging the can a few feet before it came free, and took off down the road. Derek glanced back at the carnage left behind and shook his head.

After they were a couple miles away, Stiles' heart stopped racing enough for him to risk glancing at Derek again. "What you said- Did you-"

"You talk too much and you're sarcastic as hell, but you're also loyal, smart and brave. Once you start owning that, you'll realize that no one is out of your league."

Unless Stiles heard wrong, he was pretty sure Derek Hale just paid him a compliment. "Huh." He wondered when he'd unknowingly crossed over into an alternate universe. But there was a bigger question hanging in the air that needed to be asked. "Do you," Derek tilted his head waiting for the rest of the question, "...think I'm attractive?"

It took a seemingly excruciating long time for Derek to answer. He stared out the window at the road ahead, not meeting Stiles' gaze, his expression inscrutable. "You're not terrible to look at."

It wasn't quite the answer Stiles hoped for, but coming from Derek Hale it was practically a marriage proposal. "Hm." Stiles turned his head back to road and couldn't help but smile. He flipped on the radio and grinned when he realized the song playing was 'Hungry Like the Wolf.' 

Derek reached over and jabbed the dial, turning it off. "No." He glared at Stiles as if it was his fault.

"Sour wolf," he said teasingly. Derek bared his teeth. Apparently Stiles' trip to bizarro land was over with and the universe was back to normal.

He dropped Derek off, and then drove to Scott's house to pick him up. They'd have to be quick if Stiles was going to make it back before curfew. Between Derek and the trashcan, Stiles was already in enough hot water. 

****

** * * * **

****

Stiles glared at Scott, who was sitting in the passenger seat of his jeep. Scott was busy texting his girlfriend Allison and therefore was oblivious to everything else. "Are you seriously not going to ask me about the dinner from hell?"

Scott looked up from his phone startled. "Oh! Um, how did it go?"

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Terrific, thanks for asking."

"Yeah?" Scott replied uncertainly.

"Yeah, Derek and my dad really hit it off, because you know how they have so much in common. Like how Derek was a murder suspect and my dad is the sheriff. It gave them a lot to talk about. And my Dad was completely understanding about Derek spending the night in my room. He didn't practically come out and call him a sex predator or anything."

Scott winced.

"On the bright side, nobody killed anybody."

"That's good," Scott nodded in agreement. 

"And he didn't order me to stay away from Derek like I thought he would. As long as he doesn't come into my room anymore, we're good."

"Do you think you could get your dad to order Derek to stop sneaking into my room too," asked Scott hopefully. "I'm going to have a heart attack someday."

"Sorry, you're on your own for that one." Stiles pulled into the hospital parking lot. They hurried inside and made their way to the morgue. Outside the door they paused, waiting for the coast to clear.

"You stay and keep watch," said Scott, "Text me if anyone comes."

Stiles screwed his face up. "Why do I have to keep watch? You got to check out the body last time."

"Because," said Scott, "I'm the one with the wolf-senses, remember? I might be able to catch something you couldn't."

Scott might be right, but that didn't mean Stiles had to like it. "Fine, go. Now. Before someone comes." He shooed Scott through the door. Stiles then leaned casually on the wall next to it. He checked his watch, waited, and then checked his watch again. After a few minutes passed and nobody walked by, Stiles' impatience got the better of him. "Screw it." He ducked inside the door.

He found Scott opening one of the slabs. He glanced up at Stiles startled. "Stiles, what are you doing?"

"Nobody is coming. And if somebody does show up, you'd hear them approach first with your wolfy hearing."

Scott shook his head. "Fine." He walked around to the side of the slab and pulled down the sheet covering the body.

"Is that it?" asked Stiles coming around to the other side.

"I think so." He looked down at body in surprise. "He's our age!"

Stiles looked down. He then took a whiff and had to close his nose. It wasn't decayed yet, but it definitely had that death smell to it. How did Scott stand it with his super sense of smell? "He _was_ our age," he corrected nasally. Stiles frowned. "Does he look familiar to you?"

"Kind of. Do you think he went to school with us?"

Stiles took out his phone and brought up their school's website. It took him a couple minutes but he found it. He held up the phone for Scott to see. On it was the photo of the teen lying before them. The caption underneath read, "Beacon Hills High Bugle Editor."

"That's right, I saw him interview Jackson once about the lacrosse team for the school paper."

"I remember. Jackson was particularly full of himself the day the article came out with a picture of him on the front page." Stiles made a face. A few of the other team members were also visible. Scott even got a bit of his shoulder in one photo. Stiles' name hadn't even been printed with the team's roster. "So what was the school newspaper's editor doing at the Hale house?"

Stiles shrugged. "I guess we'll be making a visit to the school news team tomorrow. What about his wounds?" Scott turned the boys arm around revealing a stretch of four gouges running up his forearm. Stiles scrunched up his nose. "What do you think? Human or..."

Scott shook his head. "I can't tell."

"But a werewolf _could_ snap someone's neck?"

"Yeah, but a human could do that too if they were strong enough."

"Yeah, if they were hulk-strong." Along with the broken neck and the scratches, there were spots of discoloration to his skin. Bruises. "Looks like he took a beating too."

Scott sighed. "Still doesn’t mean werewolf. There's no bite marks."

"Hey don't get me wrong, I'll be doing the happy dance of joy if this turns out to be a run of the mill murder, rather than a supernatural one."

Scott closed the slab. "Either way, there's still a killer out there."

Stiles sobered. "Yeah." Quietly he added, "And he knows where Derek lives."

****

** * * * **

****

"Derek!" The yellow tape over the front door had already been ripped off. Stiles cautiously stepped inside the house. It was dark and hard to see. "Derek!" His voice echoed faintly. The floor creaked under his feet. Stiles never should have dropped Derek off here. "Derek, it's Stiles!" Stiles looked around frantically. What if the killer had returned? Stiles would like to think that Derek could handle it, but considering his track record of almost getting killed, he wasn't too positive. "Derek, where are you," he muttered, worriedly.

"I'm here."

Stiles jumped, grabbing his heart as he turned to his left. "Derek." Stiles took a deep breath. "You should seriously wear a bell or something."

Derek stalked towards him. "What are you doing here, Stiles?"

"I was worried."

Derek cocked his head to the side.

Stiles flailed his arms. "There's a killer on the loose, remember? What if he... returns to the scene of the crime or something?"

Derek rolled his eyes dismissively. "The cops have been all over this place, there's police tape everywhere. I doubt he would come back. If there even _is_ a killer."

"But what if it that kid dying here, in this house, wasn't a coincidence?"

Derek narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"What if the killer was actually here waiting for _you?_ But Grady showed up instead."

Derek froze.

"What?" Stiles whispered in case the killer had returned. His eyes darted side to side, but saw nothing.

Derek stared off into the dark. "The kid who was killed, his name was Grady?"

"Yeah, Stan Grady. Why?"

Derek turned his head. "A few weeks ago I got a call from someone by that name. I have no idea how he got my cell number, but he wanted to interview me about the incident at the school."

"And?"

"And I hung up on him."

Huh. Stiles tapped his chin in thought. "Do you think he came here looking for you?"

"I don't know." Derek sounded tired.

"You shouldn't stay here. Not until we figure out what happened."

"I don't have anywhere else to go."

"Sure you do," Stiles smiled. "You're coming home with me."

Derek glared. "You know what your father said..."

Stiles shrugged. "What he doesn't know won't hurt him. We'll sneak you in through the window again."

It took a little more convincing, but eventually Stiles wore him down and he agreed (if only to shut Stiles up).

Stiles came in through the front door, ready to take his licks for missing curfew. He found his dad asleep on the couch. Stiles pulled a blanket of the back of a chair and laid it over his dad. He kissed his dad on the forehead, and then quietly crept up the stairs. Derek was already inside his room waiting.

It was late and Stiles was ready to crash. He handed Derek a blanket and pillow. Derek took them, but stood there, staring at Stiles like he wanted to say something. "You know," said Stiles looking pointedly at his bed, "We _could_ share the bed."

"Don't push it."


	3. Chapter 3

Stiles and Scott skipped lunch to hunt down the headquarters for the school newspaper. They found it in an office connected to the computer lab.

"It's empty," said Scott as they entered, pointing out the obvious. There were a few desks with computers and printers. A large bulletin board took up most of the wall on one side. There were papers and photos and news clippings pinned all over it. The thing that caught Stiles attention though was the bare spot on the middle left. As it was the only visible part of the entire board it was obvious someone had just taken something down. Moving on, Stiles saw that one of the computers was turned on. Stiles leaned down to peer at the monitor. It was a story on the fat content of school lunches. Stiles snorted. That's why the only section anyone read was the sports section.

"Stiles." Scott lifted up a plaque with the word 'editor' engraved on it. 

"Oh yeah, that must be Grady's desk. Anything there."

The computer was turned off and the desk itself was clean, only a pencil cup with some pens in it. It was a little too neat, Stiles thought, considering the haphazard mess that filled the rest of the office. Like maybe someone purposely cleaned up. Stiles bent down to boot up the computer.

Scott looked nervously around. "What are you doing?"

"I want to see what Grady was up to. Maybe whatever story he was working on got him killed."

Just as Stiles pressed the button and stood back up, the door opened. A girl walked in juggling a sack lunch, coffee cup, and notebook filled with loose papers. Her hair was thrown up in an untidy bun. Her brown eyes widened and she nearly dropped her coffee. She recovered, dumping everything onto the nearest desk. She whipped around, her startled expression morphed into anger. "What are you doing in here?"

"Nothing," yelped Scott. _Smooth._

__

Stiles smiled. "We were looking for Stan Grady. Is he around?"

The girl's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "No. What do you want?"

"Oh it's not important." Stiles got an idea. "He was doing a story on a friend of ours." He watched for her reaction. "Derek Hale."

She froze unnaturally still, then took a deep breath, plastering on a fake smile. "Sorry, I don't know anything about that."

"Okay, well you look busy. We'll let you get back to work," said Scott taking Stiles' arm, "Come on, if we hurry, maybe we can still grab something to eat from the vending machine before class starts." Outside he leaned over to Stiles and whispered, "She was lying."

It didn't take wolfy senses to figure that out. "Yeah, I know. Question is, why?" If only he'd had time to look through Grady's computer. "We're going to have to go back."

Scott looked behind them. "Now?"

"No, tonight."

"Tonight?" Scott looked pained.

"Problem?"

Scott looked down at the floor. "I sort of have a date with Allison."

Stiles let out a frustrated sigh. "Scott, you see Allison every day. You can't cancel one date with her?"

"What do I tell her?" Scott looked at Stiles imploringly. "That I can't come over because I have to break into the school with you. Because that went so well last time."

Stiles threw up his hands in defeat. "Fine, go have your make out session with Allison. I'll get someone else to help."

Scott looked skeptical. "Like who?"

Stiles was annoyed by Scott's skepticism, like _he_ was the only person in the world Stiles could turn to when he needed help committing a minor felony. Too bad it was true. Stiles struggled to think of a name. "Like... Derek." 

"Derek?" Scott's skepticism did not fade. 

"Yeah, Derek. It was his house the murder took place. He has a vested interest in finding the killer. Or he should."

They entered the cafeteria. Scott pulled out his wallet and fed a dollar into the vending machine. "You really think he'd help you?" The machine rumbled and a packet of cheesy crackers fell. 

Stiles leaned against the machine as Scott bent down to retrieve it. "Yeah. I think Derek might actually like me."

Scott laughed as he stood up. He stopped when he saw Stiles' expression. "Wait, you're serious?"

Stiles watched the machine eat his dollar, and then jabbed at the buttons. "We had a moment."

"A moment? What are you talking about?"

Stiles picked up his candy bar, then leaned back against the machine as he ripped the wrapper open. "I don't know how to explain it. We just..." Stiles waved his candy bar while trying to come up with the right words.

"Oh my god," exclaimed Scott.

Stiles whipped his head around. "What?"

"I know that look. You like him. You like Derek Hale! _Like_ like him." Scott's eyes were incredulously wide.

A few heads turned towards them from the table nearby and Stiles grabbed Scott's arm leading him away. Trust Scott to finally be observant at exactly the wrong time. 

"Stiles, it was bad enough with Lydia... But Derek?"

"What about him," Stiles asked defensively.

Scott sighed, looked at Stiles with what seemed like pity. "I just... don't like seeing you get hurt."

Stiles crossed his arms. "You think Derek would hurt me?"

"I _think_ that you set yourself up to be hurt by falling for people you know you can't have."

Stiles felt the words hit his ego like a punch. Even his best friend thought Derek was out of his league. The bell rang. Stiles started to walk away. 

"Stiles?" Scott called after him.

Stiles didn't wait. "I've got to get to class." 

****

** * * * **

****

"No."

"Oh come on, Derek. It'll be like the easiest caper ever. We break in, check Grady's computer and then leave. What could go wrong?"

Derek was sitting in the chair next to Stiles' bed, with a book in his lap. He stared at Stiles like he was an idiot. "We could get caught."

Stiles' scoffed. "Not a chance. Between my ninja-like stealth and your super wolf senses we'll be fine. Besides, the place will be empty."

Derek's expression did not change. "You do remember what happened last time you talked me into breaking into the school? I almost died."

"So?" Stiles took a step back as Derek bared his teeth. "I just meant that there's no way that would happen again. It’s not like there's another crazed alpha on the loose." Stiles hoped.

Derek tossed the book aside. "I'm not going to do it."

Stiles shook his head. "Fine. I'll do it myself." He grabbed a thumb drive off his computer desk and threw it into his backpack. He jumped when a hand clamped down onto his wrist.

"You're not going there alone."

Stiles was not going to let the alpha intimidate him. "You can't stop me."

There was gleam in Derek's eyes as he leaned closer and growled. "I could." Stiles matched Derek's steely gaze and did not back down. Eventually Derek sighed, letting go of Stiles' wrist. "Fine, I'll go with you."

Stiles tried not to let his surprise show and played it cool. "That's the spirit. Besides what else were you going to do tonight? Brush up on your AP Chemistry?"

"If you had something more interesting than comics to read..."

"Those aren't comics, they're graphic novels."

Derek's eyebrows rose. "Those things aren't novels. They're pictures with words. Like storybooks. For kids."

Stiles gasped, clutching his heart. After the room stopped spinning he looked at Derek with pity. "I'm going to forgive you for that, because you have obviously never read Watchmen or _anything_ by Frank Miller."

Derek's blank expression confirmed that Stiles was right. 

Stiles arranged a mental list of graphic novels to introduce Derek to while they drove down to the school. Hellblazer perhaps? That would certainly correct him of the assumption that comics were just for kids. Never mind that Stiles started reading those when he _was_ a kid. Who let him get those anyway? Apparently his father had been of the same mind as Derek in thinking that all comics were for kids. But hey, it’s not like they scarred his young impressionable psyche. Much. Although, Stiles supposed it might explain why he took all this werewolf stuff in such stride. And why he wasn't drooling in a padded room somewhere.

Stiles pulled into the school parking lot and parked the jeep facing the school. The headlights died as he cut the engine, it was dark out and shadows played against the asphalt and brick walls. He had a sudden flashback to the night Peter Hale had hunted them through the school. He remembered the look on the janitor's face as something yanked him back. And the knot in his stomach as he waited locked in a classroom while his best friend faced off against a monster alone.

"Stiles?"

Stiles jumped, and then flushed with embarrassment. He undid his seatbelt and jumped out of the jeep. Leaning back in, he raised a brow at Derek who was still in his seat, staring at Stiles. "What are you waiting for?" He slammed the door and ran up to the double doors. The old lock and chain had been replaced with a shiny new one. He felt Derek come up behind him. Derek stared down at the lock over his shoulder. Stiles looked up, smiling. "No worries, I've got my dad's bolt cutters in the-"

Derek grasped the door handle, yanked, and it broke off from the door. The chain clanked as the handle fell. 

"-backseat. Okay, never mind." Stiles pulled open the door and gestured for Derek to enter first. Inside, Stiles asked. "Hear anything?"

Derek tilted his head. "No."

"Good." He grabbed Derek's arm and pulled. "Let's go sleuth. Paper's this way." Stiles led Derek to the Bugle's headquarters. It was empty and dark, like the rest of the school. Stiles flipped on the light switch, blinked as his eyes adjusted to the new light. Everything looked just as it had at lunchtime.

He slid into the desk chair at Grady's workstation, turning the computer on. It beeped as it began to boot up. Stiles tapped the desk impatiently. The chair tilted slightly as Derek gripped the back, leaning over Stiles' shoulder. Stiles shifted uncomfortably by the sudden nearness. He tried to ignore the warm breath hitting his neck as he moved the mouse to click on Grady's document folder. He clicked on the sub-folder titled school articles. 

"Huh."

"What?" Derek's voice was low and Stiles' could feel his gaze on him as he tilted his head.

"It's empty." Stiles tried running a search for Hale, but no results were returned. He checked the recycle folder, but whoever had deleted the files knew what they were doing. Stiles ran a hand over his buzz cut. "Nothing."

"What does that mean?"

"That means, someone beat us to Grady's computer and deleted his files."

"Can you get them back?"

Stiles leaned his head back, so he could properly give Derek a withering look. "I _could,_ if I had a crack team of digital forensic technicians. Or possibly just Danny." That was an idea...

Derek stepped back, folding his arms. "No."

Stiles swung the chair around. "What do you have against Danny?"

"Nothing. I have a problem with you pimping me out to your friends."

"Hey if I could charm Danny into doing what I wanted with my own good looks and sparkling personality, I'd do it myself," Stiles sighed, "But I know for a fact that he doesn't find me attractive." Stiles scrunched up his nose. "I'm not even sure he likes me." This really baffled Stiles, because hey he was a likable guy.

"How do you know?" Derek's tone was sharp.

Stiles' eyebrows rose. "That Danny doesn't find me attractive? I asked him." 

Derek turned his head away, but before he did, Stiles would swear that he saw Derek's eyes flash red. Weird. When he turned back, his face was its usual (human) sour face. He kicked the chair Stiles was sitting in. "Time to go."

"Fine, just let me turn this off." Stiles swung the chair back around. While they had been talking a screensaver had popped on. A photo of Grady and some girl floated around, bouncing off the edges of the screen. She looked vaguely familiar, but Stiles couldn't place her. He shook the mouse, clearing the screen and shut the computer down. Before the screen even had a chance to go to black, he was yanked out of the chair by his jacket. "And we're going..." Derek dragged Stiles all the way back to his jeep. He released Stiles roughly.

"I knew this would be a waste of time." He yanked the door open, practically pulling it off its hinges.

Stiles winced. "Hey, easy! And it wasn't a waste of time. Someone is trying to cover something up. Someone with access to Grady's computer."

"So what? That narrows it down to anyone who goes to your school?"

Stiles shrugged. "It's a start."

****

** * * * **

****

The next day at school, while walking to his locker, Stiles spotted his dad talking to the principle. Scott wasn't around to ease drop for him, but he found out what they must have been discussing anyway when there was an announcement made during his last period about Grady's death. "There will be an assembly tomorrow during second period and a grief counselor on hand." The teacher's eyes narrowed. "That does not mean you can just skip class. You must notify your teacher first and bring back a pass from the counselor."

As soon as the bell rung Stiles rushed to Scott's locker. "You heard?"

Scott pulled out a couple books, throwing them in his bag. "About Grady? Yeah. Not that we didn't already know." Scott swung the locker door shut. He followed Stiles out to the parking lot while they talked.

"Yeah, but now everyone else knows too, including intrepid girl reporter Mandy Glossip. Of whom you have last period with, right?" Scott nodded but was apparently not taking Stiles' cue. "So? What was her reaction?"

"Oh, um." Scott bit his lip. "Not sure, exactly. She rushed out of class really fast."

"And you didn't go after her?" Stiles threw up his hands. It was like he was the only one who actually cared about finding out what happened. They stopped by the bike rack.

"Well there she is now." Scott pointed across the parking lot. "She looks... mad."

Stiles followed Scott's gaze. Sure enough, there was Mandy's short frame storming across the asphalt towards some kids hanging out around the back of a pickup truck. Stiles recognized them as the school's token emo/goth/potheads. A girl, wearing a black tank top and ripped jeans with red streaks in her dark hair, slid off the bed of the truck. Stiles' memory pinged and he realized she was the girl with Grady in the photo. She flung her cigarette aside as Mandy came to a halt before her. Mandy pointed a finger at her while yelling something that Stiles couldn't quite catch over the rumble of cars and students.

"What's she saying?"

Scott tilted his head. "She's saying something about 'it' being the other girl's fault." The girl in the black tank top crossed her arms. She stood a head taller than Mandy. "The other girl says she doesn't know what Mandy's talking about." Mandy lifted up her phone to the other girl's face showing her something on its screen. Whatever was on the screen got her attention and her arm swung out, knocking the phone from Mandy's hand. It went skidding across the ground. Mandy pushed the girl in retaliation. The other girl pushed back harder, forcing Mandy to stumble backwards and Stiles could see things were going to get ugly fast. Scott must have had the same thought because they were both running towards the girls at the same time. Scott got there first. He stopped in front of the girl in the tank top. Mandy tried to get around him, but Stiles pulled her back before her fist could make contact. Unfortunately said fist swung back instead, hitting Stiles on the head. Stiles lost his grip on her as his hands moved to clutch his head. Scott managed to stay between the two, keeping them apart. 

Stiles was nearly doubled over as his head throbbed. While he blinked away watery eyes, he noticed the phone on the ground. With everyone else distracted by the fight, Stiles picked it up unnoticed. The screen had a couple scratches from its fall but Stiles could still read what was on it just fine. It was a text message from Grady. "Talked Al into going. Last chance to share byline?" Just below was Mandy's reply, "Not for all the Pulitzer’s in the world."

Stiles had no idea what it meant, but it was dated the day Grady died. The phone was suddenly snatched from his hands. He looked up to see Mandy, but she wasn't even looking at him. Her gaze was locked on the other girl. "This isn't over!" Shoving her phone into her purse, she stormed off. The girl in the tank top waved off her concerned friends and climbed into the driver’s seat of the truck. 

Scott walked over to Stiles. "You okay, man?" He made a face as he glanced up at Stile's forehead. Stiles touched his temple and winced. He was already getting a bump. _Great._ Now he was going to have to explain to his dad that he got hit by a 5'1 girl.

"I would say that my dignity hurts worse, but I'm in too much pain."

Scott guided Stiles, who seemed to have lost some of his equilibrium, to his jeep. "Maybe I should drive you home?"

Stiles shook his head, which in hindsight wasn't such a great idea. _Ow._ "No, don't worry about it. You probably have another 'study' date with Allison to get to."

Scott looked sheepish. "I can cancel." And he meant it, which in itself made Stiles feel a little better. 

Stiles leaned back against his jeep. "I'm fine. I just need a minute for the stabbing pain to let up and to stop seeing double."

Scott gave him a look. He then snatched the keys from Stiles' hand. "I'll text Allison that I'll be late."

As Scott drove him home, Stiles told him about the text that was on Mandy's phone. 

"Do you think he was talking about going to Derek's?"

Stiles tapped his chin. "Maybe. I wonder who Al is."

"I heard Mandy call that girl she was fighting with 'Alexa'."

"Huh." Stiles stared at the dash board and his leg bounced restlessly as he thought. "So if Grady was meeting Alexa at the house that night, then she could have been the one to kill him." Stiles' eyes widened a bit. "Did you by any chance smell anything... wolf-like about her?"

Scott glared at Stiles from the corner of his eye. "You know that's not how it works. Werewolves smell almost the same as any human when we're not in wolf form. There's no way I could pick that up with so many other people around."

"So no weird vibes? No wolfy senses tingling at all?"

Scott scrunched his nose. "Her clothes did have kind of an acrid smell, but I think that was probably the pot and cigarette smoke."

"Okay, well, let's assume for a minute that there's nothing at all supernatural at work here. That it's your every day run of the mill murder. According to my dad, the motive for most murders is either love or money. Since we can probably exclude money..."The jeep came to a stop and Stiles was surprised to see they had arrived at his house. Scott offered to stay over until Stiles' dad came home, but after some convincing that Stiles wasn't going to lapse into some kind concussion induced coma, Scott took off happily to meet Allison. 

It felt dumb sending Scott away, when Stiles had been complaining that they didn't get to hang out much anymore, but the throbbing in his head hadn't gone away and all he really wanted to do was crash in his bed and suffer in peace for a while.

****

** * * * **

****

Stiles trudged up the stairs to his room. He dropped his bag as he entered. He started towards his bed, but it was already, quite inconveniently, occupied. "You're here."

Derek looked up from the magazine in his lap. He sat cross-legged on the bed. He put the magazine aside and stretched his legs over the edge. His toes curled as his bare feet hit the floor. "Where else would I be." His irritated scowl changed when he looked at Stiles. Derek jumped up, grabbing Stiles by the shoulders. "What happened?" He tilted Stiles' head back. With Derek hovering over him so close (personal space was not a concept known to Derek) Stiles' eye line was level with Derek's mouth. It was a nice mouth. Good shape. Soft looking. Just a hint of white teeth flashed as Derek's warm breath brushed Stiles' face. Stiles wondered how Derek's lips would feel against his. Would his stubble scratch or feel good against Stiles' own smooth skin. Stiles licked his lips, then blinked as he realized what he was doing and decided regaining his personal space bubble was a good idea before Derek heard his racing heart or smelled his flaring hormones. Stiles batted Derek's hand away as it reached up to prod at the welt. He moved out of Derek's grasp and sat on his bed.

"There was a fight in the school parking lot-" The sentence was left hanging as Derek rushed out of the room. "Okay." Stiles scooted back on the bed, putting a pillow between his head and the wall. He was ready to close his eyes and give himself over to the relentless throbbing pain when Derek reappeared in front of him with a damp towel wrapped around some ice. Stiles stared at it dumbly. Derek grabbed his hand placing the icepack in it and moved both up to Stiles' temple. "It'll help with the swelling." 

Derek sat on the bed next to Stiles. Stiles rested his eyes, letting the icepack do its work. After a few minutes Stiles heard Derek say, "Why were you fighting?"

Stiles opened his eyes to glare. "I wasn't." He started from the beginning, ending with his conversation with Scott on the way over. "...Jealousy! That had to be it. Grady going out with Alexa sent Mandy into a jealous rage, she followed him out to the Hale house and-"

"Snapped his neck?" Derek said dubiously.

Stiles tried to picture Mandy standing on her toes in order to reach and grab the much taller Grady's head. "She brought a step stool with her? And is hugely stronger than she looks?"Stiles slumped. "I've got nothing. But she was totally acting weird when she caught Scott and me near Grady's computer."

"What about Alexa?"

"She's scary enough looking. And probably tougher. But what's the motive?"

"Does there have to be a motive?"

"Well Derek, normally when one person murders another there are reasons behind it. Usually stupid reasons, but-"

"No. I meant the why doesn't matter, if you know the who."

"I think its Mandy. But I don't know how to know for certain."

"I do." Derek waited for Stiles to look at him. Stiles raised a brow expectantly. "We ask her." Stiles was about to say something snarky, but Derek cut him off. "We ask her and I can listen to her heart beat to tell if she's lying."

"Oh my god!" It was so simple. Why hadn't Stiles thought of it? "That's right. You're like a human lie detector. We could have this wrapped up by tomorrow afternoon and have you back in your own place before dinner time." Stiles felt a weight lifting off his shoulders. They could have this thing solved. His dad wouldn't have to work another late night and Stiles could go back to worrying about mundane things like homework, lacrosse, and full moons. 

"Unless of course she didn't do it."

Stiles’ newly uplifted mood deflated. He set the icepack down and shook his head. "No. She did it. She had to do it."

"Why is this so important to you?" Derek stared at Stiles with honest curiosity. When Stiles took too long to answer his brow furrowed. "Do you really want me back in my house that badly?"

_ Yes _ , because Stiles was tired of walking around with his stomach in knots. _And no_ , because it’s _Derek_. And as nervous as he made Stiles feel, Stiles knew that with him around he was safe. His dad was safe. Because Derek was an alpha. And for whatever reason, Stiles slept better knowing Derek was near. The nightmares that had haunted him since Lydia was attacked and Peter had kidnapped him didn't dare touch him.

"You know," Derek continued, "It's not like last time. I'm not being hunted. I can go somewhere else." Derek started to move off the bed. 

Stiles grabbed his arm. "Don't." Derek looked down at the hand gripping his shirt sleeve. Stiles let go. "Don't go." He looked away, unable to put his reasons into words.

"Okay."

Stiles looked up in surprise. Derek was smirking as he settled back down on the bed. Stiles didn't trust that smirk.

"How's your head?" Derek asked innocently.

"Better, I think. How does it look?"

Derek looked at him thoughtfully. "Come here."

Stiles leaned forward for Derek to get a better look. Derek gently ran his hand across Stiles' temple. Stiles' skin tingled where he touched, but not in a painful way. His hand moved down, skimming lightly over his cheek to his neck. Stiles tilted his head back to catch Derek’s gaze. A question was lost, before it was even fully formed, when he felt Derek’s hot breath against his lips. It was sudden, like a car crash, Stiles had no time to process what was happening until Derek's lips were on his. Even then Stiles wasn't entirely certain Derek hadn't just slipped and their lips collided in a freak accident. But Derek wasn't jumping away. In fact Derek was pressing harder. Then he was nipping and sucking and, yes, Stiles thought, this was definitely a kiss.

Stiles' hands flailed a bit before they found purchase on Derek's shoulders. And wow. Stiles was touching Derek without the death glare of doom. Or, well, he could have been giving Stiles the death glare of doom, but his eyes were closed so he couldn’t tell. Didn't care. Stiles moved his hands, because the touching felt good and he wanted to feel more. He moved his hands down Derek's back, fingers curling in as he went, which would have probably left scratch marks if his fingernails hadn't been so short. He found the hem of Derek's shirt and hiked it up so that his hands could roam a little more freely against Derek's skin. Derek was hot all over; his skin, his mouth... was that a werewolf thing? Or just a Derek thing? Either way it felt really good. 

Derek moved from Stiles’ lips to his neck. Stiles smothered the urge to giggle. Apparently he was ticklish there. Thankfully Derek moved up to nibble and lick at his ear and wow, Stiles had never really gotten the whole ear/tongue thing, but now he did.

Derek paused a moment and then whispered in Stiles’ ear. “Your dad is home.”

“What?” Stiles gasped somewhat incoherently as his brain refused to compute while his body was in overload.

Derek leaned back. He looked pained. "Your dad is home."

In his mind, Stiles heard a voice scream, ‘Nooooooo!’


	4. Chapter 4

The next day, Stiles was still convinced that Mandy was their best lead. Since Stiles didn't know where she lived and he doubted he could talk Danny into hacking the school records, he decided that confronting her at school would be their best bet.

Stiles was finishing off the last of his fries, when Scott got a strange look in his eyes. "What," Stiles asked mouth full. 

Scott blinked slowly as if he was having trouble believing what he was seeing. "Derek."

"What about him?"

"He's here. At school. During the day.” Scott's words were rushed, laced with panic. “What is he doing here? And why is he staring at you?" 

Stiles turned in his seat and saw Derek standing by the open cafeteria doors. "Oh yeah, I asked him to meet me here." Derek nodded to him and Stiles nodded back, giving him the thumbs up. Stiles was pretty certain Derek rolled his eyes as he moved out of view. He quickly washed his fries down with soda, draining the bottom of his cup with a slurp of his straw.

Scott frowned. "Why are you meeting Derek at school?"

"Because Mandy spends her free period after lunch in the office for the school newspaper. And that's where we're going to confront her about Grady."

Scott looked at Stiles warily. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

Stiles stood up. "Of course it is. I better go, before you know who gets grumpy. I'll let you know how it goes."

"Yeah, good luck." Scott did not look convinced, but Stiles was feeling confident. After all he had an alpha backing him up. What could go wrong?

Stiles smiled at Derek as they met outside the cafeteria. While walking, Stiles observed, "You know, it says something about our school's security that you can just wander around here without anyone saying anything." And in fact no one did say anything, even as they moved through the computer lab into the office for the school paper.

They found Mandy seated at Grady's computer pounding furiously at the keyboard. "You," she shouted as she spotted Stiles. She nudged her plastic framed glasses back into place as she pushed away from the computer and stood. She marched around the desk and up to Stiles, poking him in the chest with her finger. "What did you do to Grady's computer?"

"Ow," Stiles rubbed his chest. Derek leaned over his shoulder to snarl at the girl. She stepped backwards slightly startled. 

"I- I saw you on Grady's computer the other day. Now all of his files are gone. What did you do?"

"Me? I thought _you_ deleted them? To cover up your tracks!"

"My what?" Mandy looked just as confused as Stiles. "What are you talking about?"

"I don't know!" This was not turning out how Stiles expected. He just needed a minute to think.

Derek came to the rescue. In a calmer voice than the two teens he said, "If you didn't delete Grady's files and Stiles' didn't, than someone else did. Who would have had easy access to this room?"

"We're short-staffed this year, so it's just me, Matt, Alexa..."

Stiles interrupted, "Alexa?"

"Yes." Her eyes narrowed at the mention of the other girl's name. "She's a staff photographer, when she bothers to show up."

"So that's why Grady took her to the Hale house."

"How would-" Her eyes narrowed. "You looked at my phone." She pursed her lips. "Alexa claims she never went. That she doesn't know what happened."

Her expression made it clear that Mandy didn't believe a word of it. Stiles didn't either. "Where would Alexa be right now?"

Mandy shook her head. "As far as I know, she never showed up for school today."

Stiles rubbed his chin. He glanced out the small window on the door, into the computer lab. He smiled. "Do you by any chance have Alexa's cell number?" 

****

** * * * **

****

"Hey, Danny boy." Stiles leaned against the table, smiling in his most charming way. 

Danny looked up from the school computer in surprise. His mouth tightened into a thin line when he saw who it was. "What do you what?" He went back to typing.

Stiles tossed a piece of paper with a phone number on it in front of Danny. "I need you to track the GPS location for a cell."

"Forget it."

"Come on, please? It's important."

"No." Danny didn't bother to look up from his typing.

Derek grabbed the back of his chair, spinning Danny around. "He said please."

Danny's eyes widened. He glanced at Stiles uncertainly. "Your cousin?"

Derek growled. 

Stiles bit his lip. "Um, not exactly. It's kind of a long story, but basically Derek, not my cousin, was on the run from the law and I was hiding him until we could get his name cleared."

Danny laughed, and then sobered as he realized Stiles wasn't kidding. "I still can't help you."

"There's fifty bucks in it for you."

"The answer is still no."

Danny tried to turn his chair back around, but Derek grabbed onto the arm. He leaned forward. "This _is_ important. We'd be," Derek smiled, "...very appreciative of your help."

Danny swallowed hard. "Fine. I'll help." Derek stepped back, letting go of the chair. Danny picked up the phone number and went to work.

Stiles and Derek stepped away to give him his space. Stiles gave Derek a significant look. Derek narrowed his eyes. "Just this once," he whispered. Stiles nodded, not even trying to hide his grin.

It took Danny all of fifteen minutes and, man, did Stiles wish he knew how Danny could do that. "Got it." Stiles leaned in close to get a look at the screen. "Looks like the phone's signal is coming from the outskirts of town, here.” Danny pointed to the screen.

Stiles gaped. "You're kidding me." He turned to Derek.

"What," he asked, looking bemused and more than a little impatient.

"She's at your house."

****

** * * * **

****

They found a pickup truck parked outside Derek's house. Streams of ripped yellow tape fluttered on the ground as the wind blew. Stiles looked up to see the white clouds moving over for darker grey ones. The air was warm. There would be thunder later. Derek stepped beside him. He placed his hand on Stiles' shoulder and squeezed. "She's inside." _Werewolf hearing. Must be nice._

Stiles hesitated outside the door. "What's she doing?"

Derek got this far off look on his face. "Crying."

"Oh." They entered together, found her sitting on the stairs. Her back was curled over, head buried against her knees. There was a bottle of Jack Daniels tipped on its side, next to her feet. She lifted her head, wiping at bleary eyes. Mascara smeared across her cheek.

Derek took a step forward, but Stiles stopped him. "Maybe I better get this one." He walked slowly up the stairs, so as not to startle Alexa and sat down next to her.

Alexa glared at him. "I know you. You're the sheriff’s son."

Stiles nodded.

"What’re you doing here?"

"Looking for you."

Alexa wiped her eyes with the hem of her sleeve. "Why?"

"Because you were with Grady the night he died, so that makes you the only person who can tell us what happened."

Her breath hitched. She turned her head away, leaning forward to pick up the bottle of whiskey. She unscrewed the cap and took a drink. She held it out to Stiles. Stiles shook his head.

"What happened, Alexa?" She took her time screwing the cap back on. Stiles noticed her long black nails for the first time. One of them was broken, rough and jagged, like it had been ripped off. "Did you fight?"

Alexa stood abruptly. She walked to the top of the stairs. "He told me that this house was connected to all those murders. He wanted to check it out. But after we got here all he wanted to do was talk about some story he was working on about drug use at school. Said he knew my friend Terry was dealing. I told him it wasn't true, but he wouldn't listen. He said he had proof and that Terry would get expelled when the story came out and that I would too unless I came forward." She kicked at some debris. "He wanted me to turn on my friends."

Stiles stood up. "So you pushed him."

Alexa's face darkened. Her grip on the bottle tightened. "I didn't mean to. I just wanted him to let me go. But he just wouldn't stop-" Alexa dropped to her knees. Stiles rushed up the stairs to catch her. She gripped Stiles jacket with one hand, leaning onto him. "I tried to grab him. I tried to hold on. But he just... fell. I couldn't do anything. I couldn't save him." She stared at Stiles, eyes wet and full of regret. "I’m sorry." Stiles knew the words weren't mean for him. 

"You need to tell my dad. Everything. He'll help you, I promise."

Alexa nodded and that was all the prompting Stiles needed. He took out his cell phone and called his dad. 

Later, Stiles and Derek stood beside his jeep as they watched the sheriff and his deputies question Alexa outside the Hale house. 

"What's wrong?"

Stiles realized he had been frowning. "I don't know. It just feels kind of... anticlimactic."

"You were expecting monsters. Not a scared messed up girl."

"Yeah, I guess." Stiles sighed. The dark grey clouds now blanketed the town. "It’s going to get stormy."

"Yeah."

Stiles leaned against his jeep. "You should probably stay over. Just to be safe."

Derek tilted his head. "I guess I could survive one more night with you."

Stiles opened the jeep, but didn’t get in. "I should probably update Scott." He pulled out his phone, typed something in, and then pocketed it. Stiles looked up at Derek, who was watching him, and asked, "You want to get something to eat? I know a really good 24-hour breakfast joint."

****

** * * * **

****

"So that's it? It _was_ an accident after all?" Scott sat across from Stiles in their booth at the Pancake Shack.

"Pretty much. Alexa's not getting away clean though. She did try to cover it up. She's the one who cleared Grady's computer, so that nothing would come back to her or her friends."

Scott put his fork down and wiped the syrup off his chin with a napkin. "I don't believe it."

"That she'd lie in order to protect her friends?"

"No," Scott shook his head. "That you two could work together long enough to solve it."

Stiles turned his head to face Derek, who was seated next to him. There was the tiniest quirk on Derek's lips that one might even call a grin. Stiles smiled, leaning back against the arm Derek had draped across the seat behind him. "Yeah, we make surprisingly good team.” He dipped a spoon into his milkshake and took a bite. The spoon slid out of his mouth with a pop. He noticed Derek staring at him. “So I was thinking...” Stiles turned to Scott. “Next time you and Allison go on a group date-" Stiles was unable to finish his thought, as a strawberry was shoved into his open mouth, effectively silencing him. He glared at Derek, who casually picked up a piece of fruit off Stiles' plate and nibbled on it. Stiles spat the strawberry out and shook it accusingly at Derek. "A little warning next time. You could choke a guy doing that."

"If I were only so lucky," Derek deadpanned. Stiles flung the strawberry at him. It bounced off his head. Derek retaliated by scooping up whipped cream off his pancakes with two fingers and smudging it onto Stiles' nose. Stiles narrowed his eyes and grinned. He picked up the metal syrup pitcher, lifted it above Derek's head, and tipped it over.

Derek did not move for a moment. Then his hand slowly reached up to wipe away a drip running down his face. He licked the syrup from each of his fingers. He smiled at Stiles and his eyes flashed red. Stiles gulped. And then he bolted. 

Derek caught up with him in the parking lot. The kiss he gave Stiles was sticky sweet.

** * * * **

****

Back in the restaurant, Scott sat alone in the booth, blinking slowly. “What just happened?”


End file.
